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On the breadline
(Empty belly beds)

 

If hardship has another name disaster suits it well

Depression, melancholy, desolation, living Hell

A Hell without the means to feed a child in need of bread

To know without the need to ask, it’s ‘empty belly beds’

 

A house that’s steeped in sorrow, a parent on the edge

Misfortune never ending, a grave without a death

Money-short and work is too, there’s been no luck of late

How do you warm a weeping child with no fire in the grate?

 

A mother’s face reflecting despondency and guilt

A hopelessness that thrives and breeds in poverty and filth

A state of destitution, self-destruction, moribund

Held together by the thread that binds her to her young
 

**
 

Hard blows the wind through troubled times

Unfaithful love, wives left behind

To fend, to fight, to stay alive

To raise a child with one hand tied

 

When the last meal came to nothing

Save a few scraps on a plate

When hunger raged throughout the house

And the rent was always late

 

When the walls were thick with mildew

And the cold cut like a knife

When times were hard and children starved

And penury was rife

 

**

And so tonight they sit and quietly shiver in the dark

They wait to hear the footsteps of a man who calls a lot

He bears a box of margarine, of milk, of bread and jam

He’s from the church just down the road - the coming of

The lamb

 

© Joseph G Dawson
25/06/2018

 





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